


r i p p e d

by piningly



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Bloodplay, Kink Meme, Knifeplay, M/M, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-03
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 07:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/910682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piningly/pseuds/piningly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a world inside James Howlett's body, and Charles has barely seen one layer. He's so - there's no sign that Charles has ever been here, bone against adamantium. There's nothing that tells the outside world that the man that calls himself Logan and swaggers into rooms with no awkwardness in his step has been laid out on this bed countless times and fucked until he can't control the way his claws make a mess of the mattress. The only evidence of Charles thighs against James' calves, his mouth around James' cock, his nails claiming James' back as his own are the bruises left by James' fingertips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	r i p p e d

**Author's Note:**

> http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/9701.html?thread=21873381#t21873381   
> Prompt fill! First thing I've ever written in regards to X-Men, so I hope you like it! Please feel free to come and chat at my tumblr. I hang out at the url Piningly (surprise!). xx

Charles will be the first to admit that he's hardly normal, but he supposes that this could be considered (his thoughts fragment out, heat flaring in his stomach as he watches the way James' lips curl, nostrils flaring slightly against the pain) quite the confirmation of the fact. There is a blade, and it's in his hand. His tongue draws a line along the sweat soaked skin of James' torso, gleaming silver following the trail left, and Charles is in pieces, because the way the Wolverine's body works is fascinating. He wants to rip him apart and study him cell by cell. He wants to bite James' lip until it bleeds. He wants--

"I can hear every fuckin' thing you're thinking, Xavier," James places his hand, hot over the soft skin of Charles' own, pushes his knife further into his chest and hisses slightly as he drags it up through flesh until it reaches his chin and Charles is forced to study the other man's eyes as he pants, one hand popping his own pants open, forcing the zipper down.

"And it's Logan. How many times do I got to fuckin' -ungh."

Charles pulls the dagger out of James' chest, skin feeling three times too small for him as he watches the other man's knit back up, making him whole. 

There is a world inside James Howlett's body, and Charles has barely seen one layer. He's so - there's no sign that Charles has ever been here, bone against adamantium. There's nothing that tells the outside world that the man that calls himself Logan and swaggers into rooms with no awkwardness in his step has been laid out on this bed countless times and fucked until he can't control the way his claws make a mess of the mattress. The only evidence of Charles thighs against James' calves, his mouth around James' cock, his nails claiming James' back as his own are the bruises left by James' fingertips.

Charles will carry the marks that James won't.

"Jesus, you're a sap," the older man growls, hand fisting in Charles hair and pulling (gently, always gently) until the teeth marks against his own flesh have faded and Charles' mouth is on his. (He's wondering if Charles is the reason he feels like he can't breathe without the feel of Charles' mouth against his, his fingers working deftly against the button on his jeans, and Charles isn't certain that he isn't - he's never been good at controlling himself when it comes to this).

"Shut up, James," Charles replies, biting the other man's tongue.

"Fuckin' make me."

Charles smirks against his mouth.

"I've always wondered," He presses his palms into convulsing sides, lining James' hips up with his until he's able to push down just so, in the way that he knows makes the other man's hips jerk back up to meet him on pure instinct, "Why it is that you-," Charles nips against the chords of James' throat, rocking down and forcing out a strangled, "Fucker!" from the other man, "are always so vocal, especially when it comes to opposing my ideas."

Of course, he has wondered, but he's never looked. Playing with flesh and blood and biology is one thing. Searching through the mind of somebody you care about?

It's definitely another. He's not that man anymore. Charles is a new man and James is a thousand times that new man, especially with the way his stomach's all recreated, jagged lines and hieroglyphs spelling Charles' name disappearing with each whimper the telepath couldn't help but let out against wondrously interesting body parts. Charles is quite spellbound, if he's honest with himself - which, he'll admit - is rare. Something about James (and no, it's not the fierce way he's digging his fingernails into the plain flesh of Charles' buttocks, even if the delicious friction it's providing as James tries to tell him without words that he wants him inside of him) has a hold on Charles, and he's not sure if he entirely knows what it is.

It's the parts that keep him guessing that he delights in.

"I wouldn't be so -fuck, you fucker, fucking - jesus, vocal if you'd just - god, stop doing that you prick, don't st-- fuck, do something instead of waiting for people to- Jesus, Xavier, I'm trying to make a point and you're just - Oh, fuck me, don't stop doing that ---will you just fucking hurry up and fuck me already?"

There's a point somewhere amongst that diatribe, Charles knows this, but he can't help grinning as he licks his lips and pushes the head of his cock into the (quite frankly, burning hot) ring of James' arse. He's not gentle - he never is - but James' hasn't ever complained. Something in him lets Charles know that it's not because he's putting up with the pain, but because it makes him just as loopy as it makes Charles. It's --

Well, it's something else.

"Seeing as you asked - and it really was quite charming," Charles breathes into James' ear, "I think I'll grant your request."

He draws a ruby C against James' chest, pressing his thumb into the welled cut before it closes.

"After all - I'm fairly certain," he calms his mind - or, he tries, "That you know exactly what you're doing to me."

James raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah?"

Charles keeps time with the thumping of the headboard - through James' growls, through the scores that the Wolverine leaves on his sides.

"Yes," Charles back arches.

"You have quite the ability to tear me apart."


End file.
